Yes, his father would love that. The brothers had spent their childhood more like animals his father trained to fight each other than a true family. His father had a certain cruel curiosity when it came to pushing his sons.

Cassius turned that same cruelty back onto him as he said, “That might prove difficult, seeing as Casimir is missing.”

That news caught his father’s attention, wiping the bored sneer away in an instant. “What do you mean, missing?”

“I mean as soon as the palace was infiltrated, I sent men to protect each member of the family, but they were too late. The residential wing had been ransacked and bombed with fog magic. Casimir was gone, and my mother, your wife, was laid out on the floor as though she’d been crawling for help. Not that you likely care. The fog left her confused and frightened, and she has been asking for you, and no one knew where you were either until moments ago, when I was notified that you showed up here. So, where were you?”

His father avoided the question and asked instead, “Are you saying your brother has been kidnapped?” The Locke patriarch marched across the room as he asked the question, but his feet didn’t cooperate, carrying him in a wobbly diagonal instead of a straight line.

“Gods. You are drunk,” Cassius snapped. “And getting more pathetic by the day.”

The king’s face reddened, and he puffed up his chest. “You will not speak to me that way. I am your father. Your king. I made you.”

Cassius knew those last words had nothing to do with parentage and everything to do with brutality. His father had made him cold and hard and hungry for victory and violence in equal measure. His lip curled in disdain, knowing one day that urge would turn on its maker. Cassius did not regret being ruthless. It was necessary in this world. But if he was to be a monster, he would be his own, not his father’s.

“And what a failure you are in those roles now,” Cassius said. “King of a city that no longer exists and father of a son you did not even know was in danger.”

With a growl, his father lunged, and it took surprisingly little effort for Cassius to spin his momentum around until his back crashed into the nearest wall. Dust and ash floated down around them, and a loose, half-burned plank of wood toppled from the ceiling to join the debris scattered about the floor.